"Billy?"
The small voice gently intruded upon Billy's sound sleep, and the fourteen-year-old stirred slightly.
"Billy?" the voice repeated.
This time, Billy awoke, blinking up at the ceiling of his and Freddy's room in the dark, vaguely confused.
"Hey, Billy?"
Frowning, Billy turned and peered over the edge of the bunk bed. There was Darla in her pink pajamas, pulling at her pigtails nervously, eyes glinting with moisture in the moonlight.
"Darla?" Billy whispered back, voice rough with sleep. He cleared his throat. "What's going on? What's wrong?" He leaned further over the edge, to find Freddy still asleep in the bed below.
"I... I had a nightmare," Darla explained, a hand twisting her hair with increased fervor.
"Oh." Billy's stomach dropped suddenly, like the freefall on a rollercoaster, and he squirmed, feeling wholly inadequate. Why had she come to him? He blinked down at her, wishing he knew what to say. "Uh, do you... do you have nightmares often?" He cringed at his own awkwardness, but Darla didn't seem to mind.
"Sometimes," she said simply. She sniffled. Billy felt worse.
"What do you usually do when you have them?"
"Go to Rosa and Victor," she said. But still, that begged the question, why had she come to him? As if sensing his confusion, she elaborated, "But they always ask me what it was about."
"And you don't want to tell them this time?" Billy caught on triumphantly. She nodded at him, pigtails bouncing. "But... you want to tell me?" he whispered, almost inaudibly.
"It was that demon, at the winter carnival."
Kill the little girl. Darla's scream echoed shrilly in his head.
"Oh," he said again, more of a winded huff than any intelligible comment. "I'm sorry, Darla. I..." He trailed off, the lump in his throat cutting off all the things he didn't know how to say.
"It's okay," she said. "You stopped him. I knew you would." Was that pride coloring her tone? "But it was still scary." She glanced around suspiciously at the dark, as if half expecting the demons to materialize next to her. She looked back up to Billy, biting her lip in nervous anticipation. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"
Billy gulped, completely unprepared. He wasn't ready for this, had never been ready for it. Even before he had lost his mom, he had been alone. No brothers. No sisters. Only him. And it had been fine. Good, even. He was strong that way. Independent. He didn't need anyone else. And no one else needed him. But now...
"Please, Billy?" Darla prompted. "Just this once. I'm scared."
Billy remembered the way she had looked at him in the school hallway on his first day, after he had rejected her hug and pointed out that he wasn't really her brother. Her crestfallen expression and slumped shoulders as she trudged over to Freddy, seeking comfort. The guilt that had crashed unexpectedly over him. He hadn't meant to hurt her feelings then. And he knew he couldn't now.
"Sure, Darla," he sighed. He could spend one night in discomfort for the sake of his new sister's peace of mind.
"Thanks!" She grinned happily and padded silently up the wooden ladder, sliding herself under the covers and next to Billy with practiced ease. She was surprisingly warm, Billy noted. Not half as uncomfortable as he had been expecting.
"You know," he reminded her quietly, after a moment, "you could beat up those demons by yourself now."
"I know." Her wide smile was perfectly audible in her tone.
Billy grinned and let his eyes slip closed again.
"You know," Darla whispered sleepily, echoing him, "you're a really good brother, Billy."
Billy laughed quietly. He had never expected to hear those words, and had certainly never expected to be genuinely pleased to hear them.
"I know," he responded finally, echoing her this time. She said nothing, but he could feel the slow rhythm of her breathing. She had fallen asleep. He, too, felt himself begin to drift off, memories of demons and wizards and magic dissipating into vague impressions, accompanied by Darla's quiet inhales and exhales, and Freddy's soft snoring from below.
He had good dreams that night.